Marissa Lingen (mrissa) wrote,
Marissa Lingen

Things you didn't know about Cosimo de Medici

Sarah Lee Guthrie and Johnny Irion were good fun to hear last night. As was Olivia Guthrie and/or Irion; don't know what last name they gave the child, but at 2 1/2 she knew what a microphone was for. And they taught her The Bad Song*, poor baby. I don't think their album will become a favorite, but it will get put on the wishlist. Sarah Lee has her dad's way of telling a story and a little bit of his laugh, in addition to looking like him. It was lovely, lovely. I like the idea of my spawn wandering into one of Sarah Lee's concerts. Continuity can be good.

The weird thing is that she looks like keightyb's Mini-Me. (Seriously, this woman's guitar is bigger than she is.) This gets seriously weird because I never associated Kate with Cosimo de Medici, but now I have to. The summer I did research in Oregon, there was another undergrad in a different program, and I kept looking at him and looking at him, and finally one day I stopped him in the hall and said, "Did anyone ever tell you that you look like Cosimo de Medici?" And he said, "No, but a lot of people say I look like Arlo Guthrie." And then we stared at each other for a minute before we went whooooa and figured out that, in fact, we had not seen them together.

Mark says that commutivity only goes so far, so maybe Kate doesn't look like Cosimo de Medici at all. I am not convinced.

Anyway: I have a short story to poke. Sigh.

*The Bad Song: "You are my sunshine." It's a bad, bad song. When I was little, my parents would sing it to me, and I would wail and beg them to stop. So, puzzled, they stopped singing it, mostly. When I was about 12, I managed to explain the problem to them: my daddy called me "Sunshine." (Still does. Also "Moonshine."** And my mom calls me "Punk.") And here was this song where someone was trying to take his Sunshine away. And all my big strong daddy could do was ask them politely not to? This was serious bad scary stuff. Obviously.

**Because I objected that there wasn't sunshine at night, and it was night and I was clearly still there, and that is when Dad explained to me about reflected sunlight on the moon and a little bit about albedo. I was 3 or 4. I seem to be ending many of my stories about my parents these days with, "So in conclusion, no one can really tell where I got any of this stuff." It's gotten to the point where I didn't get it when my cousin said you could tell she was not entirely my aunt's kid, because I never say that sort of thing without extreme sarcasm, and she wasn't being sarcastic at all.

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